


She's a wicked girl. But she has small hands.

by beautifulsolitude03



Series: Clumsy hearted Fools [1]
Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulsolitude03/pseuds/beautifulsolitude03
Summary: You are grateful for the silence. Thankful that your girlfriend can smother, block out the hunger. When it grumbles inside, you have no words.Life is better now.But you know it's going to come crashing down. You know it in the way, Maya swings through your bedroom window.





	1. Chapter 1

  
**  
“I think I could have loved you.  
And you could have loved me.  
But we are both too clumsy  
with our feelings. Whatever  
it was between us. We broke it.”  
\- Lydiaskiss

**

Maya Hart is a confusing mess of a girl. So complex you can't get a definite read on her. Some days, she's so good, and kind. Others she is cold, distant, and hopeless. She is a tough girl who wears her heart not on her sleeve, but carries it in her clenched grasp. Unwilling to share it, if she doesn't trust your sincerity. She is in no way easy or simple. She never was. And this urge, this wild need, to be close to her, right by her side, frightens you more than anything ever has.

So, you focus on the doe eyed girl with a hopeful smile, and a sunny disposition. The girl who looks at you like you could save the world. Like you’re a hero, and the world couldn't be in better hands. Like you could never disappoint her.

She has high hopes for you. Dreams for you that are bigger than the ones you could've ever imagined for yourself.

You love her. That much is certain. You just don't know in what way.

So you keep her. Hold on to her, because she's the only girl who ever looked at you like you were full of possibilities. Like you were invincible. You have feelings for her. She's kind, and pretty, and polite. And so are you. The idea of you two is so unbelievably perfect, your teeth still hurt from returning the smiles she sends you from across the room.

So the choice isn't that hard.

Riley or Maya. Maya or Riley.

Or at least it shouldn't be.

And your blood thrums and your pulse drums, all to the beat of; Maya, Maya, Maya.

But your heart quickens and your mind stutters when you catch sight of; Riley, Riley, Riley.

Maya isn't perfect. But Riley is. Riley isn't a beautiful chaotic mess. But Maya is.

And you decide. Make the only choice you could've.

After all you're Lucas Friar, you always do what is expected of you. You are the perfect boy, loyal and gentle. The kind of boy who makes the right decisions for the right reasons, and you are not easily tempted. The kind of boy any man would be proud to call son, and son-in-law.

So you break her heart. Or maybe you don't. You're not really sure

You don't think you'll ever be.

**

You're sixteen, your baseball skills are legendary, your coach loves you, and your girlfriend has brought you homemade fudge brownies. Life is good.

You're sitting with your group of friends. Riley is talking to Smackle, and Farkle about ideas for how they planned to edit this year’s yearbook. Her brunette hair has grown out once again, and she keeps reaching to brush a soft strand behind her ear.

You munch on a brownie, watching her as she grows excited with their ideas. You shake your head, a smile growing upon your face.

Ah, Riley.

A thrill runs down your spine, a certain chill splitting the air. Which could only mea-

“All you’re missing is a lovesick sigh.”  
  
Maya falls into her seat besides Riley, Zay following after her. She runs a hand through her long blonde tresses. She's smirking at you, a mocking glint in her eye. And you'd always thought (with no small amount of churning in your gut) that once the triangle ended, and you had made your choice, that it would stop.

It hadn't. It just got worse. A little crueler.

But you didn't stop her. You never had. Never could.

“Excuse me?”

She winks, secretively. “I saw you, eyeing my best friend like she's a glazed donut you're just dying to eat up.”

The brownie gets caught in your throat, and you choke.

Before Zay (whose frame was shaking with silent laughter) could even get up to help you, Riley comes to your aid. Thumping your back with a surprising amount of force. Maya continues to watch you with an unimpressed look, a brow raised high.

The girl had always been brutally honest. Had always been a blonde bombshell that dropped jaws, with her sarcastic wit, brash personality, and dimpled smile. She was the kind of girl boys wanted to save. A whirlwind personality, that nice boys wondered if they were allowed to love. Allowed to be drawn to.

 But her brand of danger was too much. She was too much. Too wild, too intense, too distant. Too crazy. Too different. Broken. Threatening. Intimidating. Daring. At least those were just some of her ex’s opinions. There were others that had less tact. Others whose opinions weren't as neutral. But Maya could care less. She did what she wanted, screw what came after. So, she was a serial dater, not getting romantically tied to anyone for longer than a month. Before some issue came up. And they always did. 

She was Maya Hart. And well... she didn't really let anyone get too close.

She would sooner stab someone in the eye.

Maya pops a corn chip in her mouth, drumming her fingers on the table with a sort of nervous untapped electric energy, before jumping up. Like thunderstorms lived beneath her skin, and if she lingered for too long she would destroy everything she held dear.

“See ya suckers!”

Farkle frowns, his eyes inquisitive. “Where are you going?”

Maya pauses, looks over her shoulder with a crooked smile. The wicked glint in her gaze, causing the blue in her eyes to become sharper. Piercing. It almost burns.

She does not answer.

“Peaches?” Riley is looking at her now, her gaze cautious. And her lips forming into a thin worried line.

“Nothing to worry about, honey.” She smirks. “Just another adventure.”

“Will it be dangerous?”

The grin doesn't leave her lips, but she amuses Riley with a contemplative look.

“I don't know yet.”

“But we don't like danger, Peaches!”

“Honey, Lollipop, Sweetheart… That's just you. Remember? That's not me. It never was.”

  
“But, what about Dorothy?” Riley is struggling. Grasping at straws. Desperately trying to bottle her best friend's mischievous nature. Attempting to save her from bruised knuckles, and scraped knees. But, Maya was no longer someone who could be contained. He knew that especially. She submitted to no one. No matter the fact that he once had a hold on her. Could get her to listen. To look him in the eyes, and understand. That wasn't possible. It was gone.

Those moments didn't happen anymore.

Maya falters for a moment. And the glint in her eyes softens. “Little Star, she doesn't exist anymore.” Maya’s voice is low, tender. Almost apologetic.

You winced internally. Your reaction, mirrored in her face.

A bitter smile slipped onto your lips.

You (and her) really disliked almosts. Which of course included; could've been’s, maybe’s. Alternate universes where everything was rig- No not right. Just different.

You had a feeling you would always hate the idea of alternate worlds. Would always hate the hunger for something more than just good.

But you (unfortunately) are Lucas Friar. And you lived to make people proud.

**

You're seventeen, have just settled into a computer chair after a good weekend date with Riley. She was so pleased she kissed you breathless after it. Her tongue rendering every traitorous and unfaithful thought mute.

You are grateful for the silence. Thankful that your girlfriend can smother, block out the hunger. When it grumbles inside, you have no words.

Life is better now.

But you know it's going to come crashing down. You know it in the way, Maya swings through your bedroom window.

She stumbles halfway through her stride, and topples on to your bed in a tangle of small limbs, and drunken laughter.

You watch her, as she turns on her back, clasping her hands behind her head, and crossing her legs. She is looking up at your ceiling so intensely, that for a minute you wonder if she’s so drunk she doesn't know where she is.

“You're staring.” She says in a low sing-song voice.

“You're in my bed.” You're surprised that you are not as shocked as you should be.

“Way to state the obvious.” She shakes her head, but she’s still not looking at you.“They really don't have much diversity in the gene pool of Texas, do they Gar Ducky?”

She chuckles when you cross your arms. But It’s empty. Something grows cold inside you.

“What do you want, Maya?”

“We talking deep, or surface level?”

You don't even bother answering. It’s a trick question that jabs at something deep inside your chest. You two don't talk about deep stuff. She and you barely talk at all. She is always on the move, and you are always at Riley's side. You're not sure if it started out as a choice to deliberately avoid each other, or if you two just couldn't coexist without getting too close.

Without trying to get underneath the other's skin.

She pulls something from inside her leather jacket. It a silver flask, holding what you assume could only be liquor. She offers it to you, her hand outstretched.

You shake your head. She shrugs, taking a long sip.

Heat curls deep in your chest. And frustration paces like an animal in danger inside your gut. You want to take it. Rip it from her hands. Throw it out the window. Toss the liquid down the drain.

And not only in that moment, but in many others; you wish desperately that alcohol never existed. It destroyed too many people. Had taken your father hostage, and never really let him go. And you didn't want someone else you lo- cared about to succumb to its siren call.

  
But she knew this. You had seen to it that Zay had made her promise to stop. You were so sure she wouldn't go back on her word. She wouldn't. Right? Zay had told her to go to him. If she ever felt like she was going to slip of the face of the earth, or…or if she was so lonely, all she wanted was for it all to stop, just stop. That he would be there.

You don't know what to say. What to do. But memories resurface with each slow blink of your eyes.

“ _Maya?”_

_“I'm fine.”_

_“How are you fine? You don't look fine.”_

You sit next to her, make sure to keep a safe distance between your bodies. Allow the silence to envelope both of you. You figure if she wants to talk, she will. And if she doesn't, she won't.

After all she doesn't like being pushed.

**

You wake with the dawn.

The sky is a vast array of pink, and orange. The colours stretch endless across the sky. A draft of wind comes in through your window, and tickles your toes. You sit up, a worn blue blanket (that you don't remember covering yourself with) slips off your chest.

You're rubbing your eyes tiredly, when you remember. You dart toward your window, peek your head out, and scan the vacant city streets below.

Maya is long gone.

You sigh, frustratedly. Beating yourself up for falling asleep when she was so clearly, not okay. You grip your window ledge, unbelievably tired…unbelievably afraid. She never came to you. Never. Not when she was in trouble. Not when she was tired. And especially not when she was drunk.

She never ever got too close. Not to you.

_Maya, why do you enjoy frightening me so much?_

The light spilling through your window glints off something on your bed.

It is in your hand in moments. And you're eyeing the flask, nausea worming it way inside your stomach. You unscrew it, taking a whiff of its contents before flinching away. Bourbon.

You want to smile at the irony.

Your father favoured this drink as well. You run your thumbs along its surface. When you realize there are initials engraved at the bottom.

**_K.H_ **

…

…

Shit.


	2. Everything is different

 

_"And she always had a way_  
_with her brokenness. She_  
_would take her pieces_  
_and make them beautiful."_  
_\- R.M Drake_

**

Everything is different. But still the same. Maya hasn't been to school in two days. Which isn't out of character, but usually entails nothing good. You tried to ignore her absence. Tried to shrug it off. It wasn't the first time Maya had dropped off the world. But, Riley hadn't heard from her. And Farkle was quieter, cautious as he gazed at Riley softly, like she was something fragile. Smackle, oblivious sent you a slow owlish wink. Nodding toward the other empty space at your table.

Zay.

“Where’s tall, dark, and sarcastic?”

“I don't know.”

Smackle nods, as if just coming to some conclusion. “Maybe you should find out.”

You don't quite know how to respond, so you don't bother trying to. Instead you fold your hands, and force yourself to think of other things. (Try to) focus on Riley.

 **

“She's alright.”

Zay tells you when you appear on his door step a couple days after, with jittery nerves, and stiff limbs. You try to hide the fact that you didn't really believe him. That it wasn’t enough. That you couldn't quite get past the frenzied worry that quivered in your chest. Zay must of saw it in your face, because he put a hand on your shoulder, eyed you knowingly.

“Relax. Deep breaths, Man.” Zay slapped your shoulder, motioning to himself. “Like this, inhale, hold it… Hold it. Exhale.” He moved his hand to the pace of his breaths.

Despite the faint tremble of your hands, your eyes narrowed.

The shit-head laughed. And raised his hands in surrender.

“Zay, you wouldn't lie to me about something like this, would you?”

Zay looked insulted, and you attempted to backtrack. You weren't trying to hurt him. You would never knowingly hurt any of your friends. “I mean if something was going on with her-“

Zay held his hand up. “Lucas, I understand your concern. Really, I do.” Your hands clench, knowing there's a _but_ somewhere in there. You've known Zay almost all your life. He grew up just down the street from you. Your families have been friends for generations.

So you know, there is something he hasn't said. Words he won't or can't seem to form.

There is this frustrated look on his face. Like he has to explain something to you that he’s been trying to get you to understand for a long time. Whatever it is, he's very uncomfortable with it.

Normally, you would grin at his discomfort, but your facial muscles weren't up to the task. You don't know how to ease the evidence of your concern off your features. In that moment, you didn’t think you were capable. If the (hopefully) undetectable shaking of your frame was any indication.

“Whatever you have to say, just spit it out.”

“She's strong. Better yet, she's Maya Hart. The girl could survive in any world.” Zay grips his elbow.

But you don't want her to just survive.

_“I want Maya to be happy”_

“And, she doesn't need some, _Prince Charming_ , to come save her.”

You look down, feeling jarred. Like your soul has just been slammed back into your body. Like you had forgotten who you were for an instant, and to whom you belonged. Right. Right. Riley and you were written in the stars.

You swallowed past the thickness in your throat. You did not believe in coincidences. Riley had fallen into your lap that day on the subway for a reason.

Its Riley. It's always been Riley.

The heaviness in your chest has settled. You remembered then, what universe you live in. Recall that Maya Hart is not your responsibility. She could handle herself.

Maya belonged to no one. Certainly not to you.

You met Zay’s surprisingly serious gaze. A dark brow (you think is supposed to be imposing) arched high. You almost smile, it was very rare when Zay's protective side emerged from some deep hidden corner inside him. It was nice to see, even if it was being focused on you, and not on the people who needed it most. Like a small blonde’s ex’s.

“I know.”

“Good.”

You turn around, prepared to leave, but you can't help it. You look back. “I'm glad she has someone to watch out for her.”

He stares at you, arms crossed as he leans against his doorframe, “If I didn't, who would?”

It shouldn't feel like a blow to the stomach. But it still knocks some of the air out of your lungs. You don't let him see this. Instead, you nod. There is some truth to his words.

There's a lot of truth to the things, Zay has said.

**

Sometimes, you think _it_ never happened. That she never came to you. Her eyes conflicted, and her laughter so empty it ached. She acts so nonchalant around everyone, so unaffected, you almost think that night was a figment of your imagination. A dark desire from somewhere deep inside you.

But you don’t know. You’ve never known when it comes to Maya.

Except you still have the flask. Which is the only reason you're convinced you haven't gone completely insane.

You have yet to return the flask even though it's been months. You can’t seem to bring yourself to give it back. You tell yourself that it's because you don't want to help her get drunk. Though really that's not it. You don't know what _it_ is. But you know it's not _that_. At least not completely.

So, the flask remains on your bed, the cap veiled by the blue crispness of your pillowcase. The light sometimes glinting off the flask, and piercing the shadowy corners of your room.

**

There are moments when you catch yourself staring at her.

You're with the group, Riley’s eyes only for Farkle as he jabbers on excitedly about how NASA had discovered some new astrological sign. While Smackle assisted Zay with some Trigonometry equations. Zay watched Smackle's hand as it danced out swift explanations across the page.

He looked ready to tear his hair out.

Smackle sighed with an amused smile, as she squeezed his hand. Zay gave her a toothy grin. 

And for for a moment, time seemed to slow down as Smackle blushed. Ever since that night, the lines had blurred on what was, and wasn't allowed. The lines of Friendship had been crossed. You're not certain if it had always been this way, or if it was slowly becoming this thing that no one knew how to control.

Smackle attempted to explain it to Zay again. But, all that was background noise. All that was trivial. You lost yourself again. Or the need to fulfill the expectation of who you should be.

Maya was quiet. Her crystal eyes gleamed softly, as she doodled in her sketchbook. Biting her lip in concentration. You look down. She'd drawn a window, a rusty fire escape that looked a lot like-

You’re head jerks up. There’s the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. But she does not look up.

You want to ask her what was going on that night?

Why did she come to you? You out of all the other people in her life?

Better yet, what was it that drove her to your window?

“You’re staring.”

You flinch, because it's _those_ words that kind of haunt your dreams. They remind you of the sad girl that laid on your bed. Of the girl she was so hood at hiding from everyone.

Maya’s pain had always been quiet, invisible, and easy to ignore if one tried hard enough. But, that night was different. There was a soft stillness about her. Like the calm just before a storm. Like a hurricane that could not control the damage it was destined to cause. It was a lingering shadow in the corner of her eyes.

That night you fell asleep beside her, something had awakened inside you. A primal instinct. An ancient protectiveness that has lived inside your chest for as long as you could remember, but have not had the need for, until now, stirred.

**

_“You like me?”_

_“No.”_

_“Maya, why do you make fun of me?”_

_“Because you're easy to make fun of.”_

_“I don't think that's it.”_

_“I don't think that’s it.”_   She mimicked you in long, deep southern drawl. That sounded nothing at all like you. It was amazing, she could act the part of Riley, and Farkle down to a T. And Zay was way too easy for her, since their personalities were so similar. But you, she couldn't act as you to save her life.

Maybe she didn't pay enough attention to your mannerisms. Or maybe she was to close to see straight, and that scared her. Either way, it didn't matter, because Maya would eat barbed wire, before she ever admitted what she felt to you. Or at least that's what you thought.

_“Why do you see me like that?”_ It was a plea. You really wanted to know, why out of all your friends she saw you as some Ranger Rick cowboy.

_“Of course I don't see you like that!”_

_“Can we please stop? I want this all to stop. Just stop!”_

**

“You're staring.”

_Believe me, I know. I know_.

You don't deny it. Or try to come up with any excuses. You just nod, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. As if you’ve always done it, and you don't know how to stop.

But she doesn't comment on the subject any further. Instead she rolls her eyes, and with a frustrated shake of her head goes back to drawing.

You are so rarely given the opportunity to observe her doing what she’s best at. The way her small fingers curl gracefully around her pen. Easily, almost flawlessly shaping out what seems to be the image in her head. The way, every so often, she stops to run a hand through her hair, pursing her lips in concentration.

When she is done. There is no doubt.

And the questions race to your tongue.

But before you can ask, she meets your eyes. Almost as if she could sense all the things you didn't know how to say.

She slowly gave a small twitch of her head. _Don’t_.

You bite your tongue. Shove down all the confusion. She doesn't have any answers to give you. Or at least none that she was ready to share. And maybe you’re not ready to listen to them, anyway. Maybe you won't like what she has to say.

She nodded toward Riley, and mouthed, “That’s your girl. No one else matters. Right?”

Maya was bringing you back to reality. Reminding you that your girlfriend was at the other end of the table. Gently reminding you that you loved Riley. Her gaze almost desperately pleading with you to remember that this was the girl that you both had chosen.

But her eyes were like deep aching, endless crystal wells of more. So much more.

_“You can’t hurt me, can you?”_

_“I could never hurt you.”_

_“If you care about me, here’s what you do; Go to Riley. Tell her you love her.”_

And you listened. You always listened to Maya. Despite her, sometimes driving you crazy because she would always put other people’s best interest ahead of her own. She always put others first. She was reliable, meaning; she would always break her own heart to keep those she loved happy.

_“Thank you.”_

_“What are friends for?”_

Maya loved Riley. She would never hurt her. You loved Riley. How could you ever hurt her? You never wanted to.

You look down. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for this quote belongs to the author, and in no way goes to me.

**Author's Note:**

> This quote belongs to the author, and all credit belongs to them. And in no way belongs to me.


End file.
